


The Truth behind the Paper Wrap

by ModSoul



Series: Chance Meetings [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, meeting character, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 17:16:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20979512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModSoul/pseuds/ModSoul
Summary: When Steve's Job leads him to his old friend's doorstep again, he gathers all his courage to finally ask him a question that's been bugging him for quite a while.





	The Truth behind the Paper Wrap

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for a prompt send in by Clara.  
Hope you enjoy it as much as we did!

"Comin', comin’”, came the voice from inside the house.  
It has been months since Steve’s last delivery to the man owning the local scrap yard. It was not unusual for him to be the one delivering the heavy packages that made it to this place from all over the world. Some of his colleagues did not even want to go anywhere near the old and rusted cars and the piles of metal littering every available surface. If it were their fear of those piles toppling over or the rumours that surrounded the grumpy old man living here, he was not sure. Patiently he waited for the heavy footsteps to reach their destination. Finally the door opened wide enough for the exchange to be polite without intruding on the man’s privacy.  
"Oh, hello. Been a while," the other man greeted dryly.  
He had not changed much since the last time Steve had seen him—maybe a little more grey in his beard and a few more wrinkles.  
"It certainly has. Got mail for you, Singer", Steve answered, equally fond, as he held up a package and his clipboard. Back when they were younger, they had hung out, drank a couple of beers, and let the hours flow by. Even when they got married, they continued the tradition, until Bobby lost his wife. After that, he turned his back on old friends, basically exiling himself. Now all that was left of their friendship was random meetings on his porch.  
"What happened? You okay?" Bobby asked, frowning a little.  
"Ha, ha, funny thing: I actually got chased and bit by a dog while delivering mail!" Now he could laugh about it; back then he had been pissed as hell.  
"No kiddin'! Ha!" The other laughed while signing the necessary paperwork.  
"Yeah, had to wear a flippin' cask for three weeks!" It was their usual small talk, but even after all these years it felt weird, the change still gnawing at Steve.  
Once the transaction was finished, Bobby retreated back inside, but Steve put a hand on the door frame. "Actually, there is something I need to ask you. Mind if I come in for a sec?"

Bobby studied him for a long time. His eyes wandering from his hand to his eyes and to the book that was most likely hidden beneath the paper wrap. As he considered the request, he looked over his shoulder. Steve could see the wheels turning in the other’s head and wondered what debris his house would hold, considering the state of the yard. After what seemed like hours Bobby stepped aside and let him in.  
“Sure, what can I do for ya?” He gestured towards the living room.  
Steve could not remember the last time he was actually inside the house. The only thing he knew was that things had been different back then, less strained and definitely less stale.  
“Did a cat die in here?” He scrunched his nose.  
“Nah, just some trouble with the pipes.” Bobby avoided looking at him by putting the package on a table full of books and clutter, then closing some of them.  
Accepting the obvious lie Steven sat down on an old couch, the cushions groaning beneath his weight. Uncertain he stared at his hands. Since he had read the name on his delivery list, he had thought about his question. Now that he had the chance, the words just did not want to come out.  
“Want a drink?” the other offered to break the tense silence that had settled between them.  
“Thanks, but I still got a few stops to make,” he declined with a shake of his head. Back in the day they could talk about anyone and anything; why was this so difficult? Probably because it was silly and irrational, but still, he had to know: “You still collect those old books?”  
“Old books?” Bobby clearly tried to play dumb.  
“Yeah those smelly old things with the weird symbols and stories of monsters.” With his hands, Steven tried to describe them, but he only had a vague memory of the few times he had to check the others mail because of damages to the packaging.  
“Ya snooped in my mail?” Instead of sitting down Bobby towered over him, anger shining in his usually calm eyes.  
“It was protocol, sorry.” Steve lifted his hands, which at least seemed to calm him.  
“What about ‘em?” came the next question. Bobby’s tone had changed. It was no longer the clipped small talk voice Steve had grown accustomed to. A deep layer of suspicion and disbelieve stained it, yet also a hint of curiosity.  
Steve looked up at him, uncertain if he really should continue. As if seeing how hard it was for him to formulate the words, Bobby sat down in the armchair beside him and waited for Steve to spill the beans with his hands folded over his belly.  
And with a curse he did, “Maicy, my daughter, she reads these silly novels and—” Steve stopped and ran his hands across his face. “This must sound so stupid.” He took a deep breath before looking up, “I read some of ‘em too, and bits of it reminded me of the stuff in those books I delivered to you. So, I guess what I’m trying to ask is, are they real? Are those things in your books real?” He waited for Bobby to say something, but as the other opened his mouth he frantically added, “Could the stuff in those novels harm my little girl?” He was terrified and relieved. The knot in his chest wound itself even tighter as he waited for the anticipating laughter or any kind of mockery. It was stupid, he should not have –  
“Yeah,” came the simple reply.  
“What?”  
“Is’ all true. Ya mean the _Supernatural_ books, right? That all happened.” Bobby sounded tired, but oh so sincere.  
“It’s true? It’s all—”  
“‘Fraid so. Guess ya want that drink now?” the other suggested, standing up again.


End file.
